


Embracing the Truth

by StaringAtTheTwinSuns



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caves, Complicated Relationships, Confessions, F/M, Incest, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, My First Smut, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Polyamory, Sex In A Cave, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Trapped, Twincest, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-06 05:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaringAtTheTwinSuns/pseuds/StaringAtTheTwinSuns
Summary: A mission goes wrong, and Leia, Han, and Luke are trapped in a cave on a remote world waiting for rescue. There, they are forced to confront the feelings they've been hiding ever since discovering that Luke and Leia are twins.





	Embracing the Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



> In response to the following prompt: "A mission goes wrong, and they are trapped together to await rescue. One of the three prods the conversation to address just what they all are to each other."
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, a special thanks to TheTruthBetween, brotherskywalker, and inkandblade for beta reading!

“You know,” Han grumbled, flinching a little as Luke dabbed at the fresh cut on his forehead, “as long as we’ve been doing this sneak-into-enemy-territory stuff, you’d think we’d be better at it by now.”

Luke grimaced, and took a bacta patch out of the box of supplies he’d scavenged from the pile of twisted metal that had been their shuttle. “Hold still,” he said. “And don’t blame yourself. If it weren’t for your piloting skills we probably wouldn’t be here at all.” He glanced over his shoulder, where the storm that had downed their shuttle and driven them into this cave raged on.

Leia shivered and wrapped the damp blanket a little tighter around her shoulders. It was hard to believe that, just hours before, they’d been on a routine reconnaissance mission, scouting out the location of an cell of Imperial loyalists who hadn't accepted the treaty that officially ended the war. She still wasn't sure where the sudden storm had come from, and why none of their scanners had picked it up before they'd hit the atmosphere. If it hadn't been for Han's steady hands at the helm, and for whatever Luke had been doing with the Force....  _ Don't think about that. _ Leia shuddered. They were here now, that was what mattered, and they had enough supplies to last until Chewie and his crew could reach them—that is, if they could get the com signal to go through.

"Chewie?" Han half-yelled into the comlink, trying to be heard above the wind. "Chewie? Come on buddy, we need your help down here. Damn it!"

A burst of static fizzed from the comlink, and Leia reached for the emergency firestarter kit. Even if Chewie had gotten the message, he would have to wait until the storm calmed down before he could even think about coming to the surface to get them. In the meantime, if she could do nothing else, Leia could at least keep them warm.

"Here." Luke picked it up and handed it to her, his fingers brushing against hers as the little black box exchanged hands.

"Thank you," Leia said, and looked away, ashamed of the little flutter that erupted in her chest at her brother's—her  _ brother's _ —touch.  She made a circle of stones on the ground, the way her father had taught her during their camping trips on Alderaan, sprinkled the area with enough powder to burn for at least four or five hours, and set it alight with the spark.

Han tried the comlink again. "Chewie. Come in Chewie. You guys up there?"

This time, they could all hear the reassuring reply.

"We're fine," Han said back. "No, the shuttle's trashed, and you’re not flying in this storm. We've got enough food for"—he dug around in the bag, counting ration bars—"at least a day or two. You've got our coordinates?"

Chewie roared an affirmative.

"All right. Yeah, we're staying where we are. You got this storm on your scanners? Okay. All right, buddy. We'll see you as soon as it's safe, right?" He clicked off the comlink and leaned his head back against the cave wall. “Storm shows up on their scanners,” he muttered. “Should have shown up on ours.”

Luke shook his head. “Scanners are machines. They break down, they get interference.” He lowered his eyes. “I should have sensed it. It’s my fault we’re here.”

“Hey,” Han said, “don’t beat yourself up over it.” He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something more, but decided against whatever it was. Instead, a heavy silence fell over the cave.

Two or three years ago, if you’d told Leia Organa she would be trapped in a cave on a desolate, storm-battered, Imperial-sympathizing world with only two people for company, Han and Luke would have been her first, last, and only choices. Now... things were different. Awkward.

"We should share the blanket."  Leia crawled around the fire to sit next to Han. It was safe, at least, to touch him. To find comfort in his embrace. "Here." She draped one end of it over his shoulders. "It's big enough for all of us. And the night might get cold."

Han gave her a questioning look. Leia probably knew what it meant, if she looked deep enough inside herself, but it was easier to pretend she didn't. They'd only been officially together for about a year, but Not Talking About Their Feelings had quickly become the status quo.

"Luke?" Han's question was as loaded as the look on his face as he nodded from Luke to the blanket. "Come on. You can... do whatever it is you're doing later."

Luke's hands stilled, and he put aside the portable scanner he'd been unconvincingly pretending to work on. He looked at Han, and then his eyes flicked over, for a second, to meet Leia's.

"Come on," she said. It wasn't supposed to come out stiff and strangled, and sounding like a voice she didn't even know. "It's warmer over here, and..."

And what?

That was a question she didn't dare answer.

_ And I still miss what we could have been. What we were. _

"Okay." Luke smiled, but there was a mask-like quality to his features. The smile didn't reach his cheeks, much less his eyes. "If you're sure I'm not.... I mean, if the two of you want to...?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Han held out the other end of the blanket like a cape, and pulled Leia closer as her side of the blanket tightened around her shoulders.

And then they were sitting by the fire together. The three of them, just like that night on Hoth. There hadn't been a fire, then—it would have melted half the base down. But there'd been a blanket, and a flask of Han's best Corellian whiskey, and there'd been laughing and crying and then a couple of silly, stolen kisses that had made Leia think, for the first and almost the last time, that she might not have to make the impossible choice that had been tearing her apart for two years.

They'd never really talked about it, of course. They'd never actually sat down and laid out, in so many words, the fact that all of them had feelings for each other. Leia was sure that was what it had been, though, and she was sure that Han and Luke knew it too. But then the Empire had attacked, and they'd been driven apart, and they hadn't come together again until Endor.

And now they were here. It wasn't quite that simple, of course, but they still hadn't really talked about it. Luke had thrown himself into mission after mission for the Alliance, and Han had been assigned to a military campaign that took months. And Leia had gone to Coruscant to help work out the details of the peace treaty, and when Han had come back he'd stayed in her apartment, and they’d been together because they wanted to, but also because people expected them to be, and they hadn’t talked about the gaping hole in their family that wasn’t really filled when Luke came back and got a place of his own.

Admiral Ackbar had probably thought he was doing them a favor, assigning the three of them together to a mission that should have been a simple get-in, get-out. And they’d been fine, mostly, as long as there had been hyperspace coordinates and lifeform readings to talk about.

But now there was nothing but to wait here by the fire.

Han opened one of the bags they’d salvaged from the shuttle and handed Leia a ration bar. “Dinner?”

Leia wasn’t hungry, but she knew she would be eventually, once the shock from the crash landing wore off. “Thank you,” she said, and brushed the hair away from his forehead, revealing the bacta patch. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Han smiled and shrugged. “Just a scratch. I’ll be fine, thanks to Luke here.”

He handed Luke a ration bar, too, and their fingers lingered against one another for a split second that sent a guilty pang through Leia, as strong as the tingle Luke's touch had given her.

She wasn’t the only one who missed what they could have been.

“I don’t mind.”

She didn’t say it very loudly, but even over the roar of the storm and the crackling of the fire, her words seemed to fill the little cave.

“I mean.” Leia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and wished she could link her fingers with Han’s, but closed them around the ration bar instead. “I don’t mind if the two of you are still… more than friends. Or if you want to be. I know you were.”

“It’s not like that—“ Luke began, but Han cut him off.

“Yeah, it is.” He looked at Luke with a question in his eyes. “I mean… if you don’t feel that way about me—about us—anymore, it’s fine. I get it. But I think what she’s trying to say is, this is messed up. The three of us. All still pining for each other and nobody saying it, and nobody really breaking it off either. Don’t tell me that shuttle ride wasn’t awkward, even before we started to go down.”

“It doesn’t matter," Luke said, in what was probably supposed to be a peaceful, serene Jedi voice, but came off sounding for all the world like the petulant boy from Tatooine, pushing his feelings under the surface not because he really thought they belonged there, but because he told himself that no one cared. "It doesn't matter what I think," he said. "This is the only way it  _ can _ be."

And this was it. This was what had  _ frustrated _ Leia so deeply about Luke on Hoth, when Han was being so insufferably cocky. It was so obvious even Threepio had picked up on the fact that he wanted both of them, but when either Han or Leia hinted that they'd also like the same, Luke would close himself off, and act—badly—like he really didn't care.

"Luke," she said, "it matters what you think. It matters what you want, and what you feel."

He shook his head. "We can't go back, though. I can't change... I can't change who I am, or what I have to be to you."

Something—some sticky mix of hope and sickness—rose warm and thick in Leia's throat. Who he was. What they were. That meant she hadn't imagined the spark when they'd touched, or the look in his eyes every time he saw her, and refused to let himself meet her gaze. "I—" she started to say, but what she felt couldn't be put into words.

"All right." Han tossed his ration bar aside and swung his arms over Luke's and Leia's shoulders. "Let's forget about names and titles: brother, sister, husband, wife. Who cares? Fact is, none of us are happy."

"That's not—" Leia started, but Han shook his head.

"You're not," he said. "Not completely. Not the way you ought to be. Don’t argue—I know it's not my fault. Hell, we're still good together. I know that, and you know that, and I know you're not unhappy with me. But that doesn't change the fact that you're unhappy.”

He looked at her, in this wide-eyed way that put all his cracks, his own unhappiness, on display.

Leia swallowed the stickiness in her throat, and brushed a shock of hair from Han's forehead. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just—I just miss it, sometimes… the way things used to be.”

She meant Luke, of course, but she also meant the easy, undefinable, unnecessary to define bond that all of them had shared. She missed Han being cocky and confident and boastful. She missed herself, wanting both of them, but not  _ needing _ them in this way that hollowed her out and burned her dry. She missed being able to be completely happy—maybe the only time in her life she really had been.

Han looked her in the eye for a fraction of a second, then shook his head and looked away. He held his hands out, as if to warm them with the fire, and the shadows it cast on his face fell into the suffering lines there, making him look a decade older than he was. On his far side, Luke stared into the flames, his hands folded together too tightly to be an expression of serenity, his thumbs pressed too hard against his chin.

“You’re not either,” she whispered, like an accusation. "You're not happy either. Neither of you are."

Han kept staring at the fire. The lines on his face deepened in anger or frustration—which in Han, more often than not, often felt one and the same.

It was Luke who broke the silence. "I wish I could be," he said. "It feels like I  _ should _ be. That... the Force should be enough. But... if I'm being honest, I do miss this. I miss the two of you."

"So what do we do?" Leia spoke to the fire. She spoke to the storm and the Force and the universe, but she couldn't look her brother— _ he's your brother, Leia. Your  _ brother!—in the eye.

Han looked up—at Leia first, then Luke. The blanket had fallen from their shoulders, and though the distance between each of them was a matter of centimeters, the falling darkness in that space seemed like the gap between worlds.

"Let me ask you a question," Han said. "I'm guessing you talked to each other about me. 'Bout how me and Luke were together on Hoth, and me and Leia on our way to Bespin?"

Leia opened her mouth to apologize, and Han cut her off. "Don't go saying you're sorry. You were both with me, and I'm guessing you were with each other. You both deserved to know, and I should have said something about it back then. But we're talking about it now, and it doesn't look like this storm's letting up anytime soon. So tell me, whichever of you wants to do the honors. When'd it happen the first time for you?"

Leia looked at her hands, at the ration bar she was crushing into at least three or four pieces. Make that five.

"Yavin."

It was just a word, spoken so softly that Leia could almost tell herself she hadn’t said it aloud. But it was enough to take her back, to that first night of… not many, but several.

"A couple nights after the medal ceremony," Luke added. "In an empty room in the barracks. It was... my first time."

Leia knew that, of course, knew that she had been his first. It had felt like an honor for so many years, and now it felt more like a burden. It was a burden that she had taken that from him, when it should have been Han or... or anyone, really. Anyone but his own sister. But more than anything else, it was a burden to have to admit to herself that she still treasured the memory, long after it should have become a regret.

Han nodded. "Okay. That's pretty much what I thought. And I'm not upset about it, so don't try to apologize. The two of you got together, what? At least a year before Luke was with me, and three or four before you knew about... Vader."

Luke shook his head. "That doesn't change anything." He clenched his prosthetic right hand into a fist, and rubbed at the wrist with the fingers of his left. It still bothered him, then, sometimes, the way it had after Bespin—not because of any physical or mechanical reason, but with a remembered pain that, at the time, Leia hadn’t been able to understand.

She wanted to hold him close, to comfort him, the way she had then. Instead, she could only be glad that Han was closer, and safer, and that he knew Luke almost as well as she did.

“It’s okay… Luke,” he said, with this catch in his throat like he was about to fall back in time and say  _ kid. _ “Nobody’s judging you, or Leia.” Han wrapped one arm around his shoulders, and placed his other hand over Luke’s, stilling them.  “I miss you,” he said. “I never stopped, you know, feeling the way that I did." He gave Leia a long, hard look. "Fine. If nobody else is gonna lay it all out there, then I will. I feel like I lost half my happiness. More, ‘cause seeing the two of you together made me happy, too. And maybe it's stupid and unrealistic, but I want us to be what we should be. What we always kind of were."

Luke closed his eyes, and nodded. Outside, the storm seemed to quiet. The rain still fell, but the winds seemed to calm, and the fire danced a little less wildly.

Han, Leia thought, was waiting for Luke to speak. Maybe, in a sense, so was she. But Luke was too good these days at bottling his feelings up, at keeping them locked away where even Leia couldn't read them. She wished she'd taken him up on his offer to teach her about the Force—really taken him up on it, not just the noncommittal answer she'd given him on Endor, when the whole thing had felt too big, too heavy to bear. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to read him again the way she once had. But at least it would have given them a chance to spend some time together, to work together through everything they had learned.

Luke was silent. He didn't pull away from Han's touch, but he didn't lean into it either, and his hands were almost painfully, artificially still.

He wasn't going to answer. He was going to let the storm just end, and let Chewie come to rescue them in silence. And then he was going to go back to Coruscant, to his lonely one-room apartment, and visit Leia and Han only briefly, and only when "official business" decreed.

And Leia couldn't let him do that.

"I miss us too."

Han turned his head at the sound of her voice. Luke's eyes widened. And even though it was still just the three of them, in a cave on a desolate rock in a corner of the galaxy that even those Imperial sympathisers had probably deserted, Leia was suddenly more nervous than she had ever been speaking on the crowded Senate floor.

"I love you, Han," she said "But we're missing something. We're missing you, Luke. I've spent the past year trying to think of you as a brother. And in a way, I always have. But I haven’t been able to stop the other things I feel. I'm too used to just... to thinking of you as  _ you _ ."

She edged across the floor of the cave, ignoring the rocky spurs that bit at her ankles and knees.

"Luke, please. If you don't want me, if you don't want Han... or if you only want one of us, or if you need us to respect whatever boundaries you have, we'll make it work. But if you don't talk to us..." Tears clawed their way up her throat and bit at her eyes. "I was so... happy. Isn't that silly? When you told me about you and Han. It gave me hope, that I didn't have to choose. That none of us would have to break each other's hearts, or give up part of our happiness for another part."

"I felt that too," Luke said, but he still couldn't look her in the eye. "I thought we could maybe be... all together, somehow. But everything's different now. That's why I've been staying away. It's the only way the two of you can be happy."

“It doesn't have to be!" Leia argued. She wished it sounded more convincing — at least enough to fully convince herself. “Who says we have to be siblings or lovers, or strangers who used to share a bed? Can’t we just be family? Can’t we just be us?”

There was more she had to say. Once the words had started to come, she could have talked and talked and talked, wrung her feelings about the family they should have been into a speech like the ones she typically gave about freedom and justice and democracy.

But Han didn't give her a chance.

"I think we ought to try," he said, and craned his head to look Luke in the eye. "I mean, if you're up for it?"

"Han." Luke turned to look at him, and their lips met — just a brush, just a moment. "I missed you. Always so sure you know the right answer. Even when it's obviously wrong."

"I missed you, too, kid. Me and Leia both." Han gave him a crooked smile, apparently not noticing that he'd used the pet name he'd been avoiding only minutes before. "And in defense of my answers, you'll never know they're wrong unless you try."

Luke nodded, thoughtful. "I know," he said. "I know you're right. I missed you, too, Leia." He looked her straight in the eye. "And maybe the Force wanted us to be here. To prove Han wrong" — he smiled — "or right."

Leia leaned forward, shifting her legs to one side to close the distance between them as much as she could. She brushed her fingers through Luke's hair, and let her hand rest in the warm curve of his neck. He cupped her cheek in the palm of his left hand, and raised her chin until their lips met. He had never really kissed her in the ravishing, hungry way that Han did. Luke’s kisses had always felt more like caresses, like he was afraid of breaking either or both of them by pressing too hard.

This kiss wasn't like that. This kiss was a question, a bold exploration, a statement of everything they struggled to say aloud. His tongue teased at her lower lip, and she parted her mouth, letting him know how welcome he was—how welcome he always would be—to come in.

Leia curved her right arm around his back and pulled him in. He didn't fight it. They flowed together, as much  _ one _ as they ever had been. And with her eyes still closed, she wrapped the fingers of her left hand around Luke's bionic right. He jerked—reflexively, she thought, still hesitant to touch her, at least in this way, with the hand that still represented, to him, Vader and failure and now the terrible, heavy secret they shared. 

_ Luke. I want all of you. All of you. _

She focused on this, on his lips, soft against hers, on the warmth of his body, cradled now between hers and Han's. And he heard her. Or maybe he just felt it it her body, but he let her raise his hand to her cheek, where it rested cooler and smoother and maybe a little stiffer than the other, but as much a part of the Luke that Leia still loved.

_ All of you, _ she repeated again, as much as for herself as for him now. He was Luke, he was still Luke, whatever else he was to her, and the years had given his kiss a new, raw boldness that called her to him, and gave her permission to call to him in kind.

His hands slid from her face, down her neck, to her shoulders, and then he held her there, tight against his chest. And their bodies found each other — still, again, forever — in all the right places they’d discovered years ago.

"Leia," he whispered.

“Luke.” She spoke his name against his shoulder, let her lips brush the lobe of his ear. That had driven him crazy, once, made him cry out loud enough to earn them both a sly look at breakfast the next morning from the pilots who slept in the next room over. Now, he only drew in a sharp breath, and held it for a moment, just as he held her.

She wanted him. Still.

The realization flooded over her in strange comfort, like a blanket, and those nights, so long pushed to the deepest recesses of her memory, played themselves out now against her tired, hungry body: his flesh against hers, his lips in secret places. His fingers, parting her and slipping in.

"It's still good, right?" Han whispered, as if he could somehow tell what she'd been thinking of. He carried ghosts, too, of rumpled sheets and rough, hot kisses and tender hands that somehow knew the limits Leia had never thought to lay out. He ran the tips of his calloused fingers down the line of Leia's chin, lifting her head from Luke's shoulder and into a kiss he'd given her on too many lonely Coruscanti nights. "You want more?" he asked, to both of them, together.

"Mmmmmm," Leia moaned, letting her smile be her answer.

Luke twisted to face Han. "I want you to kiss me. Again. Stronger. Like you mean it this time."

Han closed his eyes and pulled Luke to him in a needy embrace, like a drowning man clutching a raft at sea.

"Han..." Luke sighed. "I should have stayed. I should have been there."

"Shut up, kid," Han muttered, and dug his fingers into Luke's overgrown hair. "Don't say you're sorry. Don't you dare try to say you're fucking sorry.” He slid his other hand to the small of Luke's back, and silenced any protest he might have given with a hard, heavy kiss—a battle of stubborn wills, Leia thought, even though they were fighting for the same thing.

Leia watched.

She had never watched before. It wasn't proper manners on Alderaan even to kiss in public, and while young people and offworld tourists didn't always adhere to those unspoken rules, older Alderaanians and well-bred girls like Leia had known it was only polite to avert one's eyes. Even on Alliance bases, where space had been at a premium, it had seemed more like a violation than a pleasure—even when it was Luke and Han—to do anything than immediately close the door and walk away.

This was different, though. Now, their glances at her said they wanted her watching. They did what they did for each other, but also for her. And even though it was Luke's hair that Han's fingers tugged at, Han's shirt that Luke unbuttoned in awkward haste, Leia felt the electricity of their touches through her body, beating warm through her veins and pulsing like a hunger within.

She moved one leg under herself, rocking back and forth in what she knew was a futile gesture against her ankle. She could usually live without release. The feeling would just grow, and peak, and eventually fizzle, but Leia didn't think she could settle for that right now. She arched her back and cupped one hand over her throbbing clit, timing the strokes of her palm with the rhythm Han and Luke set with their kisses.

Luke's back was to her; all Leia could see was the infuriating intensity of Han's fingers through his hair, and the way Han smiled through their kiss as he brought the other hand to rest between Luke's legs. "This too much?"

Luke shook his head.

"Okay," Han said. "You tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?"

He lowered Luke to the floor, unfastening his pants clumsily with one hand and tossing the blanket aside with the other. Han's erection pressed against the fasteners of his faded, worn-out pants, and the firelight hit the Corellian bloodstripes, highlighting the muscular line of his legs.

"I missed this," Han said, again and again. "Oh Luke... you don't know how I missed this."

Luke said kissed him again, even as Han stroked him, eliciting a moan from their joined lips. "Of course I know how much you missed it. I did, too. Every night. Every day."

Leia couldn't take it, watching them like this. She needed to be touched, and to touch them, too. She needed to cement this bond between them so securely that nothing the galaxy could throw at them would take it away. She wasn't exactly sure how this would work; she'd been with Han and Luke before, but never both of them together.

"Let me help," she said. "We're in this together, now. All three of us, right?"

Luke nodded and moaned as Han worked Luke's pants down around his hips, exposing his trembling length to the dim of the cave.

Leia wrapped her arms around Han's waist, and undid his pants, too, as she had so many nights in the loneliness of their apartment. It was different, now, though, with Luke sharing the moment, growing harder and thicker under the deft, sure strokes of Han's hand.

Han's legs were spread wide, straddling Luke, and Leia could barely work his pants down over his ass. She cradled him in one hand, letting the drop of wetness she found with the tips of her fingers slide with her palm down his shaft, and Han shuddered beneath her as she cupped the weight of his balls.

Luke moaned, and thrust up into Han's fist, lubricated only with spit and pre-cum.

"Holy shit, kid, you're close." Han muttered. "What's it been for you, a couple of years?"

Luke's answer came in the form of a shuddering sigh, and Leia plunged her other hand beneath the waistband of her pants. She was filled to nearly bursting by the look on Luke’s face as he came closer and closer to climax. It made her ache to think that it might have been a year, that it might have been longer, since Luke had been with anyone at all. But the thought thrilled her too, because it meant he'd been waiting. That he'd never given up on this, even though she and Han almost had.

"Luke," she moaned his name, even as she stroked Han, as she traced her own clit in fierce circles.

"Leia." Luke closed his eyes, rocking with Han's rhythm. "I wanted... I couldn't have dreamed..."

"It's not a dream." Han stopped what he was doing, and bent to kiss Luke gently on the lips. He glanced up at Leia, whose hands had also stilled. "What do you say? Want to do the honors?"

Luke's wide blue eyes pleaded with Leia’s. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know if we should."

"Do you want to?" Han looked from Luke to Leia and back again. "Look, she's got protection, whether you do or not. And it's not like you haven't done it before. If you really don't want to, I can keep going. But I know you. I know you both. And I think you do."

"I do," Leia said, something inside her still burning. "Luke, we're being careful. And we all know by now that we're no good without each other. You, and me, and Han."

Luke stroked himself—long and slow and careful, enough to stay hard but not enough to come. Something warred within him—a lifetime of words, of "right" and "wrong," versus all the rightness the three of them had shared. "I want it," he admitted at last. "I never stopped. But only if you do, too."

_ Want _ , Leia thought, was not the word. She twisted her legs out in front of her to unhook her boots, and then stood, sliding out of her pants, the air cool on the warmth between her legs. "Like on Yavin?" she said.

Luke smiled at her, shyly, like the sun peeking out from the clouds. "We never had Han with us on Yavin."

That was true. Everything was new now, even with the loves of her life, the only men she'd ever loved like this, whose bodies she knew better than she knew her own.

Leia knew that Luke liked it when she parted her legs like  _ that _ , and wrapped her fingers around him, slipping his length inside her from below. He liked when she sat, when the force of their motion drove him up deeper inside her, to that place that sent a shudder through her every time he thrust against it, and made them gasp and moan in unison.

She knew that Han liked it when she took him in her mouth, as far as her gag reflex would let her. He loved when she swallowed, clenching the muscles of her throat around him, and when she traced her tongue over the tender point where the foreskin connected to his head.

Leia focused on those points—on her loves, on her life, as they surrendered themselves to her in full. Luke's thrusts grew faster, a rhythm she knew, that her body remembered although they had gone years without it. She moved with him, her hips rocking downward to match his every upward thrust, until he gasped, and held it inside her, every last drop of his last inhibitions filling her and finally making her whole.

She came up for air, letting her tongue linger on the tip of Han's cock before running it once more down the length.

"Ohhh, that's good," Han sighed. "That's perfect. Hey, Luke, you got any lube?"

"No such luck," Luke said. "Not in a cave in the middle of nowhere. But if you want, I can...?"

"Yeah, all right. Let's see, how're we going to do this?"

Leia laughed. There was nothing funny about it, not really—but for the first time since Endor, she felt free. There was nothing she couldn't do, as long as Han and Luke were beside her. And if Han actually knew how to make this work with three of them, well why shouldn't she enjoy the prospect? Why shouldn't she follow his lead?"

"You've done this kind of thing before?" she asked.

"A couple times. With Lando. Don't laugh!"

Luke smiled. "No one's laughing! What do you want us to do?"

"Well, unless anyone objects, I'm gonna take the Princess here the rest of the way to paradise, and I want you to take care of me."

He guided Leia back to the wall of the cave, which was angled just enough for her to lean against, if not really sit on. She spread her legs, and he kissed a cool trail down her stomach, and plunged his tongue into the waiting warmth between her legs.

Leia arched her back against the rock wall, and looped her fingers through Han's hair. "I can't," she cried. "I can't take it. I'll explode." But she said that every time, and she never did.

"Oh, that's good," Han whispered against her wet skin. "You and Luke taste even better together." Chills spread through Leia's body at the sound, and the feel, of the name of one of the loves of her life caressed by the lips of the other.

Leis felt rather than saw Luke slide between Han's legs, answering the compliment by taking Han in his mouth, by reaching up to grip the hand Leia hadn’t threaded through Han’s hair.

Han moaned. "Hell, yeah, I missed that." Then he thrust his tongue again, hard and firm against Leia, who pulled him close, guided him to her fire.  _ Touch me there, _ her body said.  _ There, there. _ And Han followed her lead.

He filled her, warmed her, made the ache within her spread up, to her stomach, her legs. "I'm going to—" she gasped. "I can't take anymore."

"Don't take it, baby," Han murmured into her. "You don't have to take anything. Let it go." And then he took her clit between his lips, sucking it, sucking her into him, and her fingernails drove matching trenches in his scalp and Luke's wrist as she burst like a flare as she came.

"Han!" she gasped. "Luke!" They were both here, both with her, and Han came next, crying her name and Luke's name in kind.

Leia couldn't move. She didn't want this to end, and besides, all the strength had left her body. Someone—Luke—gave her a towel and she held it against herself, in a hand that wouldn't stop shaking, as she slid down the slope of the wall on jelly legs.

Han knelt beside her, kissed her as he wiped himself and refastened his pants and tossed his own towel aside. Luke brought her her things: the underwear and the uniform pants she’d shrugged off in her need, and when they all were dressed and the passion had faded enough to let the cool of the night air sit in, they sat by the fire: Leia and Han, with Luke between them, where he should have been all the past year. Where they all, Leia thought, needed him to stay.

“So, how does this work?” Luke asked. “The three of us together?”

Han laughed a short laugh, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I thought that was what we just showed you.”

But he didn’t mean the sex, or the snuggling, or the kissing. That would fall into place as they kept remembering each other, kept figuring out how the three of them fit into one. He meant the other things, the everyday things, like who would cook and who would clean and who would get to be sandwiched in the middle in the probably-too-small bed in their apartment, which Leia was already assuming—or hoping—they’d share.

He meant other things too, like whether they’d dare to have children. Whether they could screen for potential problems, or whether all their kids would be biologically Han’s. He meant whether they’d tell people about Leia’s birth parents; Luke had announced his own connection to Vader after Endor, but he had always said it was up to Leia whether she wanted hers to be public as well. It wasn’t her decision alone anymore, though. They’d have to work those things out together. But it didn’t have to be here or now. They had years and decades to come.

The fire was dying, but so was the storm. The sideways-blowing gale had slowed to an even trickle of mild, unthreatening rain.

Leia curled her legs up under her and laid her head on Luke’s lap, let her hand come to rest on his knee. He placed his hand on top of hers, the synthetic skin of his palm growing warmer the longer he stayed there.

Han’s fingers brushed at the tiny wisps of curls at Leia’s hairline. Her braids were half-unraveled now, her clothes rumpled and stained from the crash and everything they had been through since then. But they made her feel beautiful anyway—Han and Luke, the two perfect halves of her love.

“This is how it works,” she whispered, unsure if either of them could hear her. But the words didn’t matter. What mattered was being here. Touching each other. Sharing warmth and strength and patience when there was never really enough to go around.

Leia never really knew who fell asleep first, or how long they were there, by the fire. All she knew that was, by the time Han's comlink woke them, the cave was lit only by pale embers--and by a grey light in the still-drizzling sky.

“Hey, Chewie,” Han croaked in a tired voice. “Yeah, we’re still in one piece here. Just follow this signal. We’ll be ready to go.”

Leia stood, doused the embers with water from a canteen they hadn’t ended up needing, and gathered the belongings she’d salvaged from the shuttle in her arms. It would be easy to leave everything behind them, she thought, as she stood outside the cave, rain in her hair as they watched Chewie come in for a landing. It would be so easy to brush it off as a moment, a lapse, an act of desperation that didn’t have to follow them off this world.

_ He’s your brother _ , the voice in the back of her mind reminded her. But he had been Luke long before that.

“You ready?” Han asked, and nodded toward the plateau where Chewie had promised to meet them. “I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to get back to Coruscant.”

Beside him, Luke nodded, and gave them both a sleepy smile. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Now *I* have a confession... this is exactly my second attempt at writing on-page sex, and the FIRST I've actually gotten up the nerve to post anywhere. I would love and appreciate any and all feedback, and most of all, I really hope that you enjoyed it! :)


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